Stephen Jarrell Williams

The Quiet Ones


The quiet ones we seem to forget

Always in the background

Working and surviving in the daily crush


Sometimes we notice them

Feel sorry for them

A few moments until out of our sight


Only when we become one of them

We suffer the endlessness

Of the grind in our deafening chaos.





Paradise Lost


Sun easing down below the horizon

Skylight fading into the beginning of night

Line of scarlet above the sea


Breeze coming in off the lazy waves

We sit at the edge of sand and civilization


Behind us stirs the streets

So sure of themselves

Fingertips wrapped across the continents


Never noticing dark clouds approaching

Stars glowing brighter as witnesses


Crowds of men and women and disturbed children

Walking nonchalant and ever greedy

Over the festering mounds of yesterday’s graves


There is a way out and we all know it deep inside

Everything telling of His creation for us

But we bit the apple and said we’d do it our way


Paradise lost.

2 thoughts on “Stephen Jarrell Williams

  1. Stephen sucsint poem aďdress those people who are always there. Maybe in background their existance in their òwn ‘sense and reference.’


  2. Paradise lost is a poem with the viewer almost out of the community and viewing almost as an omnipident narrator.


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